Of Fiestas and Injuns
by Snark-N-Moon
Summary: AU: With the sheriff run out of town, the Outlaw Five celebrate. However, Big Chief Powerbill and Caballero Jack have their own fiesta. Megavolt/Quackerjack


DISCLAIMER: the following is a work of fiction. The authors do not own DARKWING DUCK, or its characters. They do not make a profit from said fiction. Any resemblance to actual people or events is merely coincidental. Let me show you what I can do with my cocked gun. If you like, leave a comment. If you hate, leave a comment. If you are a bucking bronco, leave a comment.

WARNING: Whoa! Back up, buddy. Dontcha come any closer. Some wild west porn is found this way. If you're not a fan of homosexual acts between characters, I'd just saddle up and turn your steed around. Much oblige.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Of Fiestas and Injuns

By: Snark & Moonie

The cool night air was welcomed to many a person. The sun would heat the desert sand, baking the people in the natural oven. With the lack of sun, the chill of night would wash over the land. The stars shown brightly in the cloudless sky. All seemed beautiful.

Too bad the racket ruined the beauty that could be had.

Canard was filled with much piano music and ruckus. All was dark, except for the saloon- which was very bright next to the blackness of night. It was filled with celebration. The villains of the town had been able to run the sheriff out. The place and its people were now theirs to enjoy and plunder.

And really, it was the perfect opportunity to drink away.

Caballero Jack sat happily at the counter, his sombrero covering his eyes and smile. He happily slurped away on his strawberry milkshake he had forced the bartender into making. It reminded the mad mallard of when he used to run his own saloon. Both happy and not so happy memories flooded his mind as the music played on. This very establishment had been his, until he was taken out of business by the very man in front of him. Instinct told Jack to harm him for all the trouble he caused. To get revenge for Whiffleton making him lose his sanity. To gut him now.

"But where is the fun in that", he mused. "señor's expresión is muy cómico! Jajaja!"

Giving a final slurp, Caballero jack turned to the person next to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. He laughed at his own joke, before noticing the frown on his friend's face.

"Yooohoo, Big Chief! ¿Por qué tan triste? Why so blue? This is supposed to be a fiesta!"

His Native American comrade all but ignored the friendly gesture, and continued to glare at the untouched beverage in front of him. Finally he grunted and shot a glance over his shoulder.

"How am I to enjoy celebration, when doing so only means dancing on grave of my fallen ancestors?" spat Big Chief Powerbill. "I do not like this place. It has been tainted and makes my head pound like tribal drum." he finished, holding his head in his hands in an attempt to stop the ponding. The sound of the celebrations going on all around them wasn't helping. The fact that his friends were partying on land that was once his before it was taken away by force made it worse.

Jack considered this for a moment, looking over at the other people in the saloon. Their fellow outlaws had been busy playing cards and picking up women. The plant duck and the sinuous canine laughing at jokes told to each other, as their leader smoked with a pretty lady friend on his lap. He then looked at his friend again, seeing only a sullen expression. The duck wasn't used to thinking of the land as the land of others, even though it was indeed stolen from the original natives. Although, while his culture found dancing on graves to be a GOOD thing…he could see why the rodent wasn't into the party.

"Si, I suppose you're right. Jeh. Los muertos are a real drag, anywho." The ex-bartender ate the cherry off the top of his milkshake, enjoying how the juices popped in his mouth. Jack quickly chewed it, before speaking again.

"¿Quieres salir? How about we make like a plátano, and split?"

There was a hint of relief on Big Chief's face for the first time that night at the suggestion. He pushed away from the bar, and hopped down from his chair, stretching and adjusting his quiver.

"I might only understand half of words that spill from Duck-With-Funny-Hat's bill, but that best idea I've heard all night." came his reply. He paused a moment, and then without looking back he added, "I am going back to my Tee-pee for rest of night. If you tire of festivities here you are invited to join me there." No sooner had he finished this sentence, he proceeded to slowly saunter towards the swinging saloon doors. He hoped very much that his friend would decide to follow him, but he was a proud Chief and was not about to admit such a thing.

Caballero Jack watched the Native American leave the bar, a satisfied smirk on his bill after the double doors swung a few times. He quickly got up, took off his hat in departure, signaling to the others that he was retiring for the night.

" Buenas noches, amigos míos!"

Bushroot and the Liquidator nodded, signalling they heard him. Though, in reality, they didn't understand a word the crazed mexicano said. Negaduck was too busy feeling up the lady's skirt to care for the knob.

As he jolted out the door, it didn't take long for the mallard to catch up with the chief. He giggled to himself, as he matched Powerbill's pace.

"Usted es un ligón. You're a tease, chiefy."

Powerbill smirked and glanced at Jack from the corner of his eye. "Sometimes it is necessary to tease the bull into leaving rest of herd." he replied simply as they reached and mounted their horses, and trotted off towards their destination on the outskirts of town.

"I just pray you're not a matador. They kill after their victory, ya know. Jajaja!"

The chief raised a brow from confusion, but otherwise remained silent as the Spanish gentleman continued to laugh at his own joke. The duck soon was silent, as he became lost in the horse's rhythm. They continued to sway in silence, even after the saloon's music could no longer be heard.

Caballero Jack feared the silence would drive him mad, and was very glad when they saw the native american's makeshift home.

After the horses had been tied up and watered, they both disappeared inside the tent. There was a small fire ring in the middle of the surprisingly roomy dwelling, and the embers still glowed softly, not giving much light but doing well to coat the place in an idyllic lambency. The den was rather bare otherwise, with only a scant bed made from dried animal hide and furs. If Jack decided to stay the night, the one bed would have to be sufficient, but that had never proved to be a problem in the past.

The rodent was the first to enter, closely followed by his Hispanic friend. The chief shed his quiver and sat down next to the lingering warmth of the slowly dying fire. The duck was quick to follow, landing on his rear with an audible "thump". The Spanish gentle man took off his sombrero, showing his comfort and intimacy with the Indian. The caballero then plopped his head in the chief's lap, playfully poking the other in the nose.

"Estamos solos y lejos de los demás. Are ya ready to smile and stop being such a sourpuss? Jehjeh. We should have our own fiesta, mi amor."

The poking finger was grabbed and held firmly as Powerbill gazed down at the outlaw in his lap with a half-lidded expression. The dancing glow of the embers casting mysterious shadows over the hombre's face, as he grinned widely back.

"Grinning Duck must someday learn that silence not an enemy." the chief smirked smartly. "What games did you have in mind?" he asked, as if he couldn't guess.

"Shhhh, la noche no debe saber. It's a secret. Come."

Powerbill, now completely curious to the secrecy, began to lean over more. As he was about to inquire what the duck could mean, the chief's lips were stolen with a kiss.

It took only a moment for the chief to get over the expectancy and let the soft, intimate warmness of the duck's bill and invading tongue dissolve away any remaining tension he still held from earlier. As he kissed his lover back, he let go of his hand to trace circles over his chest, through his colorful poncho. When the kiss finally ended, Jack looked back into his partner's eyes and raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. Powerbill smiled warmly and gave a slight nod. "Alright. I accept your offer of 'our own fiesta'. " 

"Oh goody, and here I feared I'd have to use every trick up my sleeve to get you to agree! Jehjehjeh!"

They went on that way for awhile, Powerbill bent over as they continued to kiss. The chief's large nose was squished as they locked lips. Jack's teeth grazing sensually over the native american's bottom lip, as he sucked the flesh into his mouth every now and again. The rodent's eyes eventually closed, as he lost himself to the passion. They went like that for awhile, before the mad mallard suddenly sprung up. Startled, Big chief was easily knocked onto his back and onto the hides. The Spanish gentleman smiled seductively.

"Cada parte tiene un convite." He purred. " Que la Virgen bendiga a los dulces antes que yo. Amén." The two outlaws' lips crashed again.

As the kiss again intensified, the rodent's knees instinctively drew up as the slight tingle began to spread in his loins, before both legs were wrapped around the waist of the duck above him. Gloved hands roamed the hombre's back, stopping every once in awhile to clutch at the poncho. Powerbill had no idea what his lover had said, but he liked the way he'd said it.

The Hispanic cowboy moved his bill to the chief's chin, and then down his neck, placing kisses where he went. Jack's mustache lightly tickled the rodent's sensitive skin. His tongue darted out to taste the warm flesh, coated with sweat and grime from days of riding and plotting the take over of Old Canard. The caballero didn't seem to mind it; if anything, he enjoyed tasting the wildness of the man just as foreign as himself.

Indio," smooch.  
>"Yo." Smooch.<br>" Pruebo muchas una tierra." Smooch smooch.  
>"De desierto en usted." Caballero Jack quit his actions to speak again.<br>"When was the last time you bathed, " he teased.

The chief's eyes had been closed, and his breathing uneven as he surrendered to the sensual attention he was receiving. But now he opened them to look at his lover. "It has been... many moons since we first started fight for town." his breath still hitched every once in awhile when Jack's tongue would hit upon a particularly sensitive spot, making it a bit of a challenge to speak. "If leader caught me wasting valuable time in stream, ... unnn... it is not wise to anger the rattle snake."

The 'rattle snake' that Chief Powerbill mentioned was none other than their cold, ruthless leader, Negaduck. He didn't keep that train of thought in his mind for long, for fear of ruining his mood. Although the thought of a dip in a cool, refreshing stream, now that the task had been accomplished, lingered in the back of his mind.

"Aaaah, si si. Jeh. Serpiente de cascabel has venomous bite. But it's okay, me gustan los hombres salvajes. I LIKE my men wild." As if to show his statement as fact, Jack gave a quick thrust of his hips. The Indian underneath him gasping from the surprise. They both panted while they rubbed their hardened manhoods against each others clothes. Pants and loincloths tenting from the intimate exploit. The Spanish duck purposely drew back his hips, the tip of his covered penis aimed where the chief's welcoming entrance awaited him; Jack then slowly caressed his cocked gun up the Native American's genitals. He teased the man under him a few goes, all the while stopping now and again to steal Powerbill's lips.

Finally, even the Hispanic outlaw seemed to not be able to take his own teasing, and began ripping off the chief's clothes.

A yellow shirt, a pair of gloves, and finally a poncho all joined each other in a crumpled pile on the dirt floor, completely forgotten in the heat of passion. The Indian chief hoped this to be a sign that the teasing was over; while he enjoyed a good foreplay just as much as the next guy, all of this rubbing and prodding and kissing was driving him wild. His erection throbbed and strained painfully against his pants with every thrust, kiss and grope.

Right when it seemed Powerbill's torture would be over, as the demented duck's hands slid and went to the opening of the Native American's pants…the chief was thrown off again as Jack's mouth dived towards his chest. Where more kisses were expected, the erect nipple was greeted with the pleasurable sting from the duck's teeth; he bit down hard enough to cause the right reaction. The rodent hissed.

And at that moment, the very hand he had hoped would give release began to massage the chief's member. The friction of cloth and the nibbling of nipples was enough to make the Indian moan.

The rodent arched his back and ground his needy member into the duck's massaging hand. He could feel the moisture on the inside of his bottoms, and the fire building rapidly in his loins. He stopped his grinding, but Jack did not stop his nibbling or his rubbing. Powerbill gave a frustrated grunt that came out as more of a pitiful whine.

"Uhhn... the dam can only take so much before... nnn..." the Indian was too busy trying to keep his focus to finish his sentence, but hoped he had gotten his point across, anyway. His eyes were shut tight, his whole body rigid, his teeth clenched. He wasn't sure what all his friend's game entailed, but at the rate things were going he was unable to see any happy endings for the Mexicano.

Caballero Jack finished the rodent's sentence. "Before it breaks? Jajaja! Poor Big Chief, jeh, usted sólo no puede mantenerse al ritmo de con el juego. Si, we play your way, mi amor."

The Spanish duck went to his own pants, tugging it down to his knees. Out like a bullet, his foot long member sprung from its hiding place. Jack then swiftly ripped down the Indian's trousers. While the duck was one to just quickly enter, Big Chief Powerbill was still hesitant to the experience. Knowing this, it made for another way for the Hispanic mallard to tease the rodent. Jack's fingers entered his own mouth, coating them with saliva. He sucked on them, and slobbered all over them, to try and get some type of reaction from the other outlaw. He giggled as he saw the blush and the irritation on the Native American's face. "Aaah, I might fear silencio, but you have no ."

Powerbill's groan of annoyance was quick to turn into additional moans, as Jack's slippery fingers shoved into his puckered entrance. One finger was quick to become two, and they both thrust in and out of the rodent with a fury. When the caballero figured his partner in crime was prepared enough, he then removed them. Powerbill wasn't left waiting for long, as the tip of Jack's member was shoved into his back door. The rodent's breath hitched as the rest of the duck was entered with no ease.

A deep but pleasurable pain overtook the chief as Jack's rampant twelve-inch cock pushed its way inside. Four enthusiastic thrusts later, and he was opened the rest of the way, whatever pain that still remained was overridden by the pleasure of hot, throbbing meat dragging along his sensitive prostate. His ring clenched around the invading shaft involuntarily every time it entered. Powerbill's breathing was shallow and rapid. Suddenly the cool night air didn't feel so cool as his body temperature continued to climb. Nights spent with his caballero always had him filled to physical capacity and fulfilled in every other way.

Deep thrusting continued for what felt like forever. Their activity causing additional sweat to coax their already filthy bodies. Caballero Jack lost himself to his long duck meat being hugged by the Indian's insides. As he saw Powerbill's face become painted with a blush, he mused with himself that placer sexual was what made the red man red. Thrusting in and out. In and out. The room felt like they were in an oven, an additional erotic pleasure of feeling cooked. Sweat from his brow ran down his bill, landing on the chief's belly. Giggles and grunts escaped his mouth. Every time Jack re-entered the Indian, he felt his down feathers rub against the other outlaw's testicles. And while his hands were grabbing the rodent's bottom forcefully, Powerbill's penis kept thwacking against the Spanish criminal's stomach with every thrust.

Precome was already spilling down the sides of the rodent's bobbing shaft; not only from the sexual pleasure, but also from his prostate slowly being milked by the sizable tool inside of him. Between the lusty thrusting, and the stimulation to his cock and testicles, atop the sexual frustration from earlier, Big Chief knew there was no stopping the river this time. Powerbill's back arched a second time, he threw his head back and let out a loud grunt, as he came, his seed catching the soft glow of the nearly extinguished embers.

The wet eruption rained down upon the Hispanic duck's ivory feathers. Powerbill's anus gripping tightly onto Jack's member. With a few more vigorous thrust, sparks and stars exploded behind the Mexicano's eyes. His Spanish duck sauce shooting out his cocked gun's head. He cooed as he felt his release, and his bill curled in pleasure. Both panting, Caballero Jack looked down into his lover's eyes. Still remaining inside the Indian, he whispered:  
>"Jehjehjeh. Eso siempre será hermoso."<p>

Getting out of Powerbill, the duck plopped down next to the other outlaw onto the furs and hides. He caught his breath, before turning onto his side. "Quite a fiesta, si? Jeh. How ya doing, Chiefy?"

Chief Powerbill turned his head and smiled at his lover for the longest time without speaking, merely smiling tiredly. Finally he turned his gaze to the ceiling of the tee-pee., and folded his arms under his head. He sighed.

"Empty of tension, full of thought." he replied. When Jack didn't respond, he decided to explain. "I am always happiest when I am with you, caballero. But there comes a time when even most content deer must leave lush meadow and return home."

He glanced over in time to see the duck's expression change in the slightest. Jack opened his bill to speak, but the Indian interrupted him. "I have achieved what I set out to do. The white duck have been run out of their home, like my people were. It is best revenge I can hope to achieve. What is done, is done."

The caballero's face fell a little more. He tried once again to speak, but again he was interrupted. Jack wasn't thrilled about being cut off a second time, but he listened just the same.

"I bring this up now, because I have favor to ask of you. It would be an honor..." he turned back to his friend. "If you would return to the tribe with me. Take place by my side, help me to guide my... our... people. To be my husband."

The duck laughed in the rodents face. "Jajaja! Hablas como una mujer. You talk like senorita. Jajaja!"

A look of humiliation and rejection shown on Powerbill's face. Before the chief could get angry, it was Jack's turn to interrupt. "No seas tonto. Of course I'll follow you. Dios, I would have whether you told me to stop or not. You are mi amor, si? I follow you till la muerte me lleve. Till death."

The Hispanic gentleman, as if to show honesty lied in the outlaw's words, leaned over and snatched the chief's lips again in a kiss. This time not speaking of sexual desire, but of love and faith. Of promises.

"Soooooo," he began after he pulled his bill away, " What WILL I do in OUR tribe? No estoy cocinando y limpiando, ¿verdad? No women stuff, si?"

Big Chief was beyond happy that his request had been accepted. He had feared that perhaps the Mexicano would want to stay behind and start up his saloon again. He knew how much that place had meant to Jack.

"No. You do not need to worry. The tribe has women to do such chores. Two-spirits such as myself will lend aid from time to time. But you, Jack, you will give guidance to tribe, but more importantly, my son. He could use strong spirit to teach him ways of life."

"Jeh. I'm not usually asked for guidance, pero no puedo hacer eso. Can give it a whirl." He paused as he tried to remember what Powerbill had mentioned about his son. "Aaaah, si. I remember you mentioning your niño few times. Son that's 'swift like river' and 'ojos like desierto hawk.'" Jack giggled. "You sound like biased padre tu meeeeeee. Jehjeh!"

"No. I am no such thing." Powerbill replied indignantly. "Little Running Gag has great potential. His aim rivals only mine. I only wish he would stop using baked food as means of attack. I cannot get him to understand that arrow will do job better." Big Chief sat up and grabbed that long stick that lay next to the fire ring, and began stirring the coals, sending sparks floating up and out into the night sky.

"Pfft! You want me to correct that? No séeeeee, pie IS sabroso. Jeh. But I like kids, I think we'll funcionan bien para molestarle. Make a fun team. Jajaja!"

As was usual, the Indian hadn't understood half of what Caballero Jack had just said, but he had faith they were words that would provide comfort if he had. "Then it is decided." he said simply, putting the stick aside now that the embers were glowing brightly again. "Now is time for sleep. We will begin preparing for our journey when sun rises. It long journey back to tribe. We will take tomorrow to prepare and to say what ever farewells you feel necessary."

Big Chief lay back down, on his side facing his soon-to-be husband. "Do these plans settle well?"

"Say 'adiós amigos', then ride off into the morning sun? Jeh. Usted es una mujer. Jaja! But si, i am liking this plan."  
>Grabbing his once discarded decorated poncho, the duck covered them both with it. Powerbill could have easily suggested one of his many furs, but was most content with the offer. Jack then closed his eyes, losing himself to the other outlaw's soft breathing and the crackling of the fire. The chief was soon to follow.<p>

The wild west was just as romantic as the city life. Passion shown through stand offs and traveling through the big outdoors. And while both the Indian and the Spanish gentleman were most eager to start their new happier life, it would have to wait for another day. The sheriff would return to reclaim the order and peace of the town, the war between the Native Americans and the paleface men raging on for another day. However, as of the moment, this mattered not. The two were peaceful and ignorant of what was to follow. So the stars shone on, and the coyotes called.

And victory was to still be had.

THE END

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Snark: You know…it's kind of sad I've grown fond of westerns since starting this. Creating this alternate universe, like how the show had the "Darkwing Doubloon" episode, was a fun project.

Moonie: It's kind of sad that even after writing this, I still have no clue about Westerns. But that aside, this was a lot of fun to write! I hope you write more in this series. It's a shame it never happened on the show.

Snark: I have plansssss. Oh yes, much plans I have! But I'm also kind of lazy. You'll have to bug me into doing it. But enough about me, let's talk about YOU. You write a great Big Chief Powerbill. It made me happy.

Moonie: I don't mind poking you periodically. Oh, and I'll bug you to write those stories, too. I guess even Megavolt's ancestors were girly. That explains a lot. You write a lovely Spanish gentleman Quacky. Very suave. Especially if you don't actually translate half of what he's saying.

Snark: For all the readers know, he was telling fart jokes the whole time. Awwwww, how romantic!

Moonie: For those two? ... It wouldn't surprise me if it was. I'm mostly kidding. I think. Anywho, in the mood for Western style tonight?

Snark: In the style of westerns, I think the following title says it all: "Too Much Beef". Unless I get to be the cowgirl this time. Then there can never be enough cattle rustling. Yeeeeee-HAW!

Moonie: Whoo! I'll get the lasso.


End file.
